


Falling

by That_chump



Series: Haikyuu Song Fic Collection [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: And By That I Mean, Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hanamaki is a Good Friend, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Reader-Insert, References to Depression, Self-Destruction, Smug Hanamaki, Strangers to Lovers, drunk oikawa, some drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27850394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_chump/pseuds/That_chump
Summary: When you met Matsukawa for the first time, you were immediately drawn to him. He’s tall, handsome, has a mysterious air to him. The more you got to know him, the more you saw firsthand how caring, loving, and passionate he could be.After getting to know him longer, you also began to see how self-deprecating and hard on himself he could be.
Relationships: Matsukawa Issei/Reader
Series: Haikyuu Song Fic Collection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2038762
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	Falling

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first part of a two part Matsukawa/Reader piece! It’s also my second fic here, and the first entry to the song fic collection I’ll be doing. 
> 
> Per the title, it’s based on Harry Styles song Falling: https://youtu.be/WcKSPyhrGWc
> 
> Enjoy!

Hanamaki Takahiro, previously ‘between jobs’, was a classmate of yours that recently started working at the restaurant you served at. It was upon your recommendation, something you might’ve come to regret given how much of a smug bastard he could be. Regardless, you enjoyed his company, and morale was boosted whenever he worked. 

Currently, you find yourself taking back that sentiment. 

The entirety of your Saturday night shift was spent with Hanamaki hovering around you, attempting to convince you to come out to drink with some of his friends and other coworkers. 

And by the time you clocked out to get the hell home, Hanamaki was perched at the break table outside ready to pester you some more. 

“Hanamaki, can I at least go home and change first?”

You whine, folding your apron and tucking it under your arm. 

“No way, that’s the classic ‘I’m just going home to change but I’m actually going to stay in and “forget” to text you’ move, I’m not buying it.”

He loosens his tie with a knowing look, and you grimace at how easily he caught on to your plan. You make sure to chalk ‘perceptive’ before ‘smug bastard’ in your mental description of Hanamaki. 

“Besides, there’s a perfectly fine sweater in your backseat and I know you’ve got an extra set of shoes somewhere in there.”

You trudge to said car, regretting giving him a ride to work the other day. You swing open the door with a little more drama than intended, before tossing your apron carelessly to the passenger side. 

“I’ll make it up to you, how about next week?”

“Don’t be like that. It’s the weekend, enjoy it before Monday is here.”

He leans back against his car parked besides yours and you sigh. You just finished exams, so you don’t have any material to study. And you haven’t spent much time with your coworkers outside of work. One or two drinks wouldn’t hurt. 

And judging by the way Hanamaki is looking at you expectantly, he already knows you don’t have a shift tomorrow or any plans. 

“Fine!”

You huff, taking a seat behind the wheel. Hanamaki tilts his head in your line of view to flash a bright smile,

“Great, see you there!”

Perceptive smug bastard. 

Downtown is lively tonight, you note, but luckily you were able to snag a good spot close to the bar. Hanamaki should be grateful you didn’t have to circle around for spaces or park by some seedy alley or lot. You might’ve just ditched him if it came to that. 

Then again, you’d never hear the end of it if you did. 

When you check your phone, you scowl at the texts in your work group chat. 

Kazami- Can’t make it, I got a shift in the morning!  
Hashira- me either :(  
Hanamaki- laaaaame  
Iwasaki- sorry man, next week?

“Those flakes!”

You lock your phone without replying. You can’t exactly blame them, you heavily considered bailing too. Hanamaki just happened to be enough of a persistent, perceptive, smug bastard. You note the addition of ‘persistent’ to the growing list of adjectives that describe Hanamaki. 

You trudge along the street, dreading the intense socializing you’re about to go through. Since the aforementioned flakey coworkers won’t be there, Hanamaki is the only person you’re going to know. 

He’d mentioned some of his friends from high school were meeting up, and that he hadn’t seen some of them in awhile. If you had one, you’d bet your left nut that Hanamaki was going to forget to talk to you and give them all his attention. 

You steel your resolve as you step into the bar, scanning for that obnoxious strawberry blonde. Is he not here yet?

You shoulder past some strangers, stealing a seat at the bar. You might as well grab something if you have to wait on him. 

“Baybreeze please,”

You smile at the bartender, who nods and promptly snags the liquor off the glowing shelves. You watch, momentarily mesmerized by the shifting colors illuminating the liquor and sleek countertops. 

He places the cocktail onto a beer napkin, and you hand him your card to close the order. 

Where the fuck is Hanamaki?

You pull out your phone to check for any texts, sipping at the drink. 

Your brows furrow, nothing from him. You shoot him a text asking if he made it yet, and he’s quick to respond that he’s looking for parking. 

You scowl, the night hasn’t technically started if he’s not here yet, and the dread you were feeling before doubles. 

“Here you are, miss.”

When the bartender hands your card back you note there isn’t any receipt. 

He shrugs at the questioning look you give him, 

“Guy over there covered it.”

He tilts his head and you follow his eyes to the other end of the counter. 

You blink when you catch the gaze of the culprit. 

He’s tall with dark hair, his curls are perfectly styled tapering to the right side of his face, dark eyes to match. He’s illuminated by the neon colors adorning the bar, highlighting his sharp jawline. You feel a bit nervous under that sharp gaze, and a little lightheaded at the smile he flashes. Did you mention he was really tall?

You flush when he rounds the bar and makes his way towards you. 

“Hey.” 

A simple introduction, his voice is deep and it sends a shiver down your spine. He cops the empty seat beside you and you find yourself straightening your posture. 

“Hey. You didn’t have to buy my drink, you know.”

You take a sip from the cocktail to busy your hands with something. 

“I needed a good icebreaker.”

He shrugs, taking a swig from his own beer. 

“I think ‘Hey’ is just fine.”

You tease and he laughs lightly at that, and the sound of it alone makes you blush. Hopefully you can blame it on the alcohol. 

“Meeting someone?”

He raises a thick brow, and you can tell he’s testing the waters with you. 

“Ah, yeah. My friend is on his way right now.”

Though if Hanamaki is inevitably going to ditch you for his other friends, you might as well see where this road is taking you. 

You note the contemplative flash on his face and you feel the intense need to clarify,

“Just a friend. He’s my coworker.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes shine at that, and you can’t help but feel a little excited by the way he’s so interested in you already.

“Noted.”

“So—“

You pause, realizing you don’t even know how to refer to tall, dark, and handsome, 

“Sorry, I don’t even know your name,”

You introduce yourself and a grin spreads across his cheeks, laughing again. He places an elbow on the counter and rests his chin against his palm, and you once again note how attractive he looks with the shifting colors of the bar highlighting his features like a silver lining on a cloud. 

“No, that’s my fault. I should’ve probably started with that. I’m—“

“MATSUKAWA!”

His eyes widen briefly before lifting his head from his palm to see whoever yelled that at the top of their lungs. 

You follow the familiar voice to the best of your ability through the cacophony of voices and music, to see none other than your favorite bastard coworker, Hanamaki. 

He quickly makes his way before you, slinging his arm around presumably ‘Matsukawa’. He also makes great work of physically and mentally cutting off the momentum that was building between the two of you. 

....don’t get the wrong idea though, you are still very, very, interested in who this guy is exactly. 

“Hanamaki!”

You both voice at the same time, and the two of you share an equally confused look. 

“I see you’ve already met my friend,”

Hanamaki comments so very astutely, and you’re not quite sure which person he’s referring to. He raises a brow at the fact the two of you are sitting together, mid conversation before he barreled in. 

At this current moment you’d like nothing more than to swipe that shameless and knowing look of his face. 

“This is Matsukawa Issei. He’s one of the friends I told you was coming tonight.”

Hanamaki continues, he pats his shoulder roughly and Matsukawa slaps him on the back to return the gesture. 

“Nice to meet you, Matsukawa.”

You smile, and he glances over with those dark eyes you’d love to get lost in if Hanamaki wasn’t here to ruin your fun. 

“Likewise.”

A similar shy smile crosses his lips, and it almost looks out of place on his striking features. 

“Did Makki seriously just butt himself into Mattsun trying to pick up a girl?”

A different voice jumps in, and it’s attached to a tall brunette with a handsome face. 

“Asshole, don’t talk about people when they’re right there!”

Another guy enters the commotion, and to your astonishment he doesn’t hesitate to wack the guy in his gut. 

“Ow, Iwa-chan, you brute! Mattsun deserves it for ditching us like that anyways.”

The brunette brushes back a perfect coif in his hair before nursing the wound in his side. 

Matsukawa’s cheeks redden, and you can tell it’s not because of the red light the bar lights transitioned to. 

“Mattsun, huh?”

You cover the soft laugh that escapes your lips and his lips turn down. Is he pouting? 

“Aww, gang is all here now!”

Hanamaki grins, introducing you to ‘Oikawa Tooru’ and ‘Iwaizumi Hajime’. 

You’re sneaking glances at Matsukawa, and you can tell he feels grateful the attention of his friends are off of him now. 

The five of you make your way to a booth, letting the guys catch up for a bit. Oikawa just flew in from Argentina, Iwaizumi has a break from school in California. Matsukawa actually attends the same college you and Hanamaki attend, to your surprise. The campus is relatively small, and you’re left wondering how you never spotted the tall, attractive man, even in passing. 

Initially, you’d felt like the night was going to be a drag, not wanting to get left out of Hanamaki’s circle of friends. 

....but at the time, you didn’t know the handsome guy at the bar that paid for your drink was one of them. 

You find yourself easily wrapped up in conversation with them, losing track of time, and practically in stitches laughing through their banter. 

You’ll apologize to Hanamaki later for making such a fuss. You make it a mental note after wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of your eye. 

“Hanamaki surprisingly gets a lot of numbers written on napkins, actually.”

You recount to Matsukawa, who at some point started a conversation with you that broke away from the group’s antics. The other three are still chattering away across the booth, but they’re paying no mind to your end. 

Oikawa shouts something unintelligible at Iwaizumi, causing Hanamaki to practically bust a gut. 

Matsukawa slides closer to you, and you’re knees brush against each other. The close proximity allows you to converse with a little more ease over the deafening noises surrounding the bar, but it doesn’t help your rapidly increasing heart rate. 

“‘Surprisingly’? What, Hanamaki not your type?”

He tilts his head, and you’re able to catch all the little features of his face you weren’t able to at the distance you had before. Beauty marks, imperfections, childhood scars you’d love to question at a later date, but it all comes together to make the man before you seem that much more appealing. 

“Mmm, no. I like someone taller. He’s good looking, but I’m not too into the strawberry blond. I like dark hair.”

Realistically, you’re not that nit picky about what features you like in a guy, but you couldn’t resist the opportunity. And the way Matsukawa lights up just fraction, with that self assured expression, makes you bite back a blushing laugh. 

“I’m not that much taller than him, you know.”

He responds with confidence, and you narrow your eyes ready to tease him. 

“What makes you think I was talking about you?”

You reach over to poke his chest, no longer able to resist touching him. Your hands had been fidgeting at your sides, toying with your sweater sleeves and brushing your hair the entire night. The touch wasn’t even anything special, a fingertip to the fabric of his loose tee wasn’t anything to brag to your friends about, but it sent a wave of excitement through you nonetheless. 

“My bad, how presumptuous of me. Forgive me for being so rude.”

He laughs at the set up that played out perfectly for you, resting a hand to your shoulder in his exaggerated apology. 

His gesture definitely covered a bigger surface area than yours had, and the contact a little less brief. For some reason, you feel a spike of competitiveness surge in you. 

You rest your palm on his knee, using it as leverage to shift closer to him on the booth. 

His gaze flicks to your hand briefly, to your thighs that gently press next to his, and he deftly accommodates your intrusion of his space by resting his arm around the back of the seat. 

“I’ll forgive you if you tell me what type of girl you’re into. It’s only fair, you know!”

You flash your most innocent smile, eyes catching his when they shift back to you. 

“My type hm? Well currently, I think I’m—“

“Mattsuuuun,”

Oikawa takes that exact opportunity to sling his arm around Matsukawa, and his brow ticks at the second interrupted moment of the night. 

“Oikawaaaa,”

He mockingly whines back, peeling his friend’s arm off his shoulder. You momentarily feel disappointed for the loss of attention from Matsukawa, but soon find yourself laughing at the display before you. 

“Mattsun, ‘m so drunk. Can we please head back? Before I throw up? I might just throw up if we don’t. And it’s gonna be all over your lap. You don’t want that right?”

Thinking back, Oikawa did mention he was crashing at Matsukawa’s place before heading back to Argentina. 

“If you throw up in here I’m beating your ass, you hear that Shitty Oikawa? Drunkawa? Learn your limits!”

Iwaizumi scolds with a scowl you’re beginning to think is always present on his face, but he hoists Oikawa’s arm around his shoulder for him to lean on anyways. 

“Alright, alright. You don’t have to manipulate me in to taking you home.” 

Matsukawa sighs, before tapping your thigh apologetically to slide out of the booth. 

“Should’ve made him stay with Hanamaki.”

He mutters under his breath, but you’re able to catch it over the music somehow. 

“Good seeing you Hanamaki,”

Matsukawa turns to Hanamaki, throwing a peace sign. 

“Don’t give me that, we’re in the same town but I hardly see you! Hang out more often, okay?”

Hanamaki huffs, before pulling him to a brief hug. 

“I’ll definitely try.”

He glances back to you, and you’re dying to know what he’s thinking while he’s giving you that smirk. 

“Come on big guy,”

Matsukawa aids Iwaizumi in dragging Oikawa out of the booth, wrapping an arm around his side. 

“It was nice meeting you.”

He turns to face you with an exasperated look, and you wonder in that moment why you two hadn’t exchanged numbers yet. 

Now would definitely be the most inopportune time, considering his hands are full with.... well, Oikawa. 

You bite your lip, could you just ask him for it and you could just enter it in your contacts?

No, that’s much worse. Not in front of his friends, especially Hanamaki, and it’ll definitely make you sound desperate.

“You too. I had fun tonight. Get that one home safe, okay?”

You force out a laugh, and he nods at your instructions before saying his goodbyes to drag Oikawa back with Iwaizumi. 

You collapse back onto the booth, pressing your hands to your burning face. 

Augh, you should’ve asked for his number sooner! 

When you pull your hands back, you squawk at the sight of Hanamaki with that shit eating look before you. 

“Shut up!”

You blush, this time you might actually smack the look off his face. 

“I didn’t say anything!”

He snickers, and you give him an angry stare, but it’s definitely coming across as a red faced pout. 

“You didn’t have to. It’s all over your face.”

It’s indeed all over his face. He’s doing a poor job of hiding that smirk, he’s got one eyebrow raised, arms crossed, and that patented, all knowing Hanamaki look in his eyes. 

“...I’m just sayin’, the sexual tension between you two was astronomical.”

“Aaaaahhhh! Shut up, shut up!”

You jump from your seat, very animatedly waving your arms frantically in an attempt to physically blast his words out of existence. You can’t believe he just said that. Hanamaki laughs heartily, and your blush reaches maximum red. 

“If you want, I can give you his number? You kinda looked like you wanted to ask but—“

“Stop talking, please!”

He throws his hands up in defense, and you do your best to scowl under the embarrassment filling your entire being. 

“I’m out, see you Monday. Makki.”

You stick your tongue out and he snorts,

“I heard enough of that during my high school career from Oikawa, please don’t make that a thing.”

You wave him off flippantly, making your way for the exit. 

“Then I’ll be sure to tell all our coworkers about it.”

You can’t help but smirk when you hear the groan that escapes his lips, 

“And get home safe, okay?”

“Yeah yeah, you too.”

He waves, heading to the bar to close his tab. 

It’s been a week already, and you’re still thinking about Matsukawa. 

You wonder if you should’ve taken up Hanamaki’s offer at the time for Matsukawa’s number. At the time, you’re certain he would’ve handed it over with only a minimal amount of teasing. 

Minimal is still a lot for Hanamaki, but you think you could’ve handled it better back then. 

And though you only had two drinks the entire night, you definitely could’ve played the ‘oops I guess I was a little tipsy’ card with him. 

But now, the only thing keeping you from asking is the sheer embarrassment that’ll come with it. 

‘You must really like him if you’re asking for his digits a whole week later!’, your inner thoughts do an excellent job of replicating Hanamaki’s smug voice. 

You tie your apron on, shaking your head of the thoughts. You’ve got a long night ahead of you, and you don’t even really feel like working tonight. You only came in as a favor since Iwasaki had to call out. You’d much rather be at home studying. 

By that, you mean procrastinating with video games and/or browsing through shows you won’t end up watching. And what a wonderful night in that would’ve been, you let out a melancholic sigh. 

Despite your hopes of a slow night, this Saturday is as busy as the last.

“Hey, you got a one top at 22!”

Hanamaki’s voice calls from down the line, and you briefly wonder why he sounds so shit-eating, or if he’s just always sounded like that and you’re only just now noticing. 

“Heard! Thanks, Makki.”

You stick your out tongue at him, and he rolls his eyes at the return of his high school nickname. 

A one top is exactly what you needed. Normally, you’d be all for taking bigger tables, but since you weren’t even supposed to work tonight, you’re alright with taking it easy. 

“Hey, welcome to—“

When you round the corner of the table, you lock eyes with Matsukawa. 

“Hey.”

He gives a short wave, and you briefly panic, ditching the whole specials menu monologue that was readied in your brain. 

“Hey.”

You’re proud you didn’t stutter, but it’s not much to pat yourself on the back for considering it was only one word, and ‘Hey’, no less. 

“Someone told me you’d be happy for me to take up one of your tables for awhile, and I needed to get out of the house and study so....”

He gestures to his school bag and his laptop with a ‘here I am’. 

“And who’s this ‘someone’?”

You glance to the section beside yours, catching Hanamaki’s gaze. He has the audacity to wink before turning to take a table’s order. 

“Who else?”

Matsukawa smiles, and you find he looks just as attractive in the restaurant’s warm low light as he did in the neon lights of the bar. 

“Well, I’m glad he did then. What can I get for you then, Mattsun?”

“I’ll grab a black coffee. And Matsukawa’s fine, please, only drunk bastards call me Mattsun.”

You laugh at the dig towards Oikawa, 

“One black coffee then, Matsukawa. I’ll be right back.”

And black coffee seems so him. He’s probably one of those guys that advocates the natural taste of ground coffee beans, you snort to yourself as you warm the cold ceramic of the mug with hot water. You tend to lean towards more towards lattes and flavored specialty drinks, but you’re not complaining about his tastes. In fact, you’re eager to learn something new about him even if it’s just his coffee preference.

Well, he’ll have to deal with the shit no-name brand your restaurant settles for. 

“You’re welcome!”

Hanamaki bursts in the kitchen, nearly dropping half the dirty plates precariously balanced on his arms. He’s obviously referring to the fact that he’s the one who tipped Matsukawa off about tonight. 

“Use a tray next time! ...and thank you.”

You blush, shuffling out of the kitchen before Hanamaki can tease you. 

Despite Matsukawa’s help camping at one of your tables, it’s still a busy night. So you find yourself flitting between tables and conversation with him. 

You also find yourself too chicken to ask for his number, despite the perfect opportunity Hanamaki has orchestrated for you. 

“Thanks for coming in again, Matsukawa. You didn’t have to do that.”

You smile nervously, watching him pack away his notebook. 

“Not a problem, thank you for giving me a place to get some work done.”

He shoulders his bag, and you work up the courage to ask for his number before he goes. 

The way he towers over you, looking so handsome with that cool expression makes you think twice though, and you find yourself far too intimidated to make the first move. 

“Have a good night, don’t work yourself too hard.”

He waves, and you bite back the question that’s been weighing at your mind the past hour or so. 

“You too!”

You spin around as soon as he’s out of sight, hands pressed to your face. How could you let that opportunity pass you by?!

Aughh!!

“Wow, Hanamaki isn’t the only one getting numbers on the napkins now, huh?”

One of your coworkers snickers, plucking said napkin off of a table. 

You peer up to see her by... wait. That’s your table. That’s the table Matsukawa was sitting at. Holy shit. 

“Holy shit!”

You run over, practically snatching the napkin out of her hand.

“He seemed kind of scary, but in a handsome kind of way. Lucky girl, nice!”

She pats you roughly on the back as a smile overtakes your features. 

Matsukawa actually left his number for you. 

You manage to rush to the back storage room to squeal out your joy, before you could startle any customers with your excitement. 

Carefully, you tuck it into your book so not to lose it. 

Thank you Hanamaki...! 

You fell into a relationship with Matsukawa with ease, as if it were the most natural thing for you. 

Late night texts turned into prolonged phone calls, which turned to hanging out in person, and those hangouts turned into dates. Eventually, you and Matsukawa found yourself in a comfortable relationship. 

Matsukawa went from a stranger you met at a bar to your boyfriend of two years and roommate. 

You’d finished your degree, and quit the job at the restaurant for a job at as a graphic designer. 

Matsukawa ended up dropping school to help run his father’s funeral home business, eventually he’d take over entirely. It wasn’t exactly what he’d intended, considering he was studying sports medicine. In the end, a career is a career, and it’s honest work. 

He’d been mildly upset at the prospect of it, but you’d convinced him it was admirable of him to help with the business, and you’d support him regardless. 

“You’re too good to me.”

He kisses along your neck, and you giggle at the feather light touches tracing up to your jawline. 

“What are you talking about? If anything, I could do more for you.”

You blush, preening at the attention. He shifts your weight onto his lap, and you wrap your arms around him to balance yourself. 

“Exactly, you’re being so modest. Too good for a good-for-nothing like me.”

He seals your lips with a warm kiss before you can complain, and you let him get away with it. 

“Hush, you’re perfectly perfect. Come on. Let’s grab coffee at the cafe.”

You stroke his cheek gently, before stealing an extra kiss from him. And two more for good measure. 

Despite the plan you tried to initiate, you wind up tangled in the sheets. Lips meeting lips and skin, lingering longer with every new kiss. 

He whines in complaint when you finally pull back to ready for your outing. You smile at the cute noise, though you can’t get the conversation from earlier out of your head. Pulling out a new set of clothes, you eye him carefully. 

Matsukawa’s been awfully self deprecating lately. He’s always had a dry, witty humor, but the self deprecation has been leaning more towards critical than humorous these days. 

You think maybe showering him with a more words of affirmation and affection will do him some good, especially some coffee from the his favorite cafe. 

You grab his hand, threading his fingers with yours before walking hand in hand to the cafe near by. 

“You know I love you right? So much.”

You swing your hand with his, peering up at him with all the feelings of love and care you can muster, and he returns your words with a soft smile. 

“I know.”

He strokes the back of your hand with his thumb.

For a moment, you thought he might’ve been improving. But his mood is quick to drop at any given moment, dipping far more often than it rises. 

The worry you felt initially don’t even compare to the concerns you have now. 

You can tell he tried to brush it off to start, remembering an incident awhile back. 

“Hey, Issei.”

You put away the leftovers from an awfully quiet dinner. 

“Hmm?”

He doesn’t bother to glance up from his work book, overviewing a client’s paperwork. 

“Are you alright?”

You can’t think of a better way to ask, so you settle for the vague question. 

“Yeah, I’m great.”

You bite your cheek, at the comment. Nothing was particularly out of the ordinary today, you haven’t had a fight or anything, and as far as you could tell his work has been tiresome but relatively normal. You know for a fact he’s not ‘great’.

“You just seem... off, lately. Is something wrong?”

You press on the matter, you don’t want to keep prolonging it. 

“I work with dead people and sad people all the time, sorry I’m not exactly feeling stoked.”

He sighs, closing his work book and you open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out. 

“Issei,”

You warn after a beat of silence. You know it bothered him to start, but he’d grown accustomed to the field quickly and adapted well to handling clients experiencing grief. He’d even confided in you once it gave him fulfillment helping people overcome their heartache. 

“What, is it depressing to be around me?”

There’s that self deprecation, rearing it’s head back in. 

“What?”

You’re shocked he’d even imply it, you’ve never felt that way. You were a little disappointed he hadn’t been as affectionate as he used to, but you never held it against him. You’ve been worried about his mental health these days, but you never felt depressed to be in his company. 

“You can say it. I won’t blame you.” 

He runs a hand through his dark locks, exhaustion etched across his features. 

“We talked about this Issei! I love you, and I support you. I’m not ashamed of what you do for a living, or who you are.”

You cry out, knowing full well what he’s getting at. In the past, he’s commented on such things in passing. That he’s a guy with a scary face, and someone as sweet and cheery as you looks out of place with him. That your boyfriend is a funeral worker, and it must be so awkward for you to deal with. 

The comments had always been nonchalant, and you were sure to shut them down, but you can see now it’s always been at the back of his mind. 

“I know, I know. I just keep thinking you’d be happier with someone else.”

He mutters, eyes shifting away from your hard stare. 

You sigh softly, closing the distance between you two and wrapping your arms around him. For once, you’re taller than him due to his seated position. You press your nose to his hair, and he tucks his face into the junction between your neck and shoulder. 

“If I cared about petty things like that, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Issei, I love you.”

You’re sure to repeat it again, and you’ll do it as many times as you need to, 

“I love you, I love you.”

You press your lips to his head, holding him tight. You feel his hands trail up your sides to lie tightly around your waist. 

“Fuck. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

His face stays pressed to your shoulder, and you rub his back comfortingly. 

“Don’t, it’s okay. I love you.”

You won’t even hold it against him if he can’t say it back. 

And you wished that was a sign for better, but it was a steady decline from there. 

You never ended up talking about the incident, and he always brushed off your concerns, quick to change the topic. You held your tongue most days, not wanting to put any pressure on him. 

But you just wanted to understand what he was going through. You wanted to help him, support him, like you said you’d always do. 

“Can we talk?”

You know it’s a phrase anyone in a relationship dreads hearing, but it’s the most straightforward way to convey how serious you are on the matter. 

“...”

He doesn’t give a response, but he takes a seat at the edge of the bed to give you his attention. 

“If you aren’t happy, I want you to be honest with me.”

Matsukawa narrows his eyes, a wash of anxiety overtaking him. His hands fidget, shaking as they clutch at his knees. Was this your way of trying to tell him that you were unhappy with your relationship? 

“I’m not happy. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

When the words reach your ears, you bite your lip. Hesitating briefly, you stride towards the bed to sit beside him. You rest your palm overtop his shaking hand, nervously running your thumb along the edge of his knuckles. 

“Of course I don’t want to hear that. But I’m glad you’re being honest, I just want to know why you’re hurting.”

“I don’t think this relationship is working out.”

That was the last thing you expected to hear. Your whole body freezes and your eyes widen, unsure how to respond. It feels like someone’s dumped a bucket of ice down your back, and your lucky your sitting or your legs would’ve given out then and there. 

“It’s not what it used to be.”

“I-Issei, come on. I know you don’t mean that—“

“We should end things.”

“Why?”

You don’t know the cause for all this turmoil. Your relationship had been fine, almost perfect. Hanamaki had made jokes about the two of you getting married even. You always smacked him for teasing you, but each time you hoped that would be the outcome of your relationship with Matsukawa. 

You saw the signs of depression appearing day by day in Matsukawa, but you didn’t think confronting it would lead to this. We’re you wrong? Had you misinterpreted everything completely? Was he bored of this? We’re you really just that bad of a girlfriend? 

The intrusive thoughts start to snowball out of control, and you look up to him with watery eyes for a sign of a joke. A tell that he doesn’t mean it. But his face is neutral, and the only thing you can see is him contemplating his next words. 

“I cheated on you.”

The tears drip down your cheeks without your permission, and you pull your shaking hand from his to wipe them away. 

You think about how he’d always be the one to do it for you, but you quickly dismiss the thought before you have more reasons to cry. 

“You’re lying.”

He has to be. He’s not that person. He wouldn’t have the time, he wouldn’t have the lack of care, the lack of composure, he loves you—

“I’m not.”

He shuts you down immediately. 

“Then how come I don’t believe you?”

“You’re in denial, it’s the truth. I’m sorry. It was when me and Hanamaki went out for drinks last month. He left early, I stuck around. I met someone. I drank too much, I wasn’t happy with our relationship, I couldn’t help it.”

That night he’d stayed the night at Hanamaki’s, he’d told you himself. Hanamaki had made jokes about it on one occasion. Was that a cover up? Is that the real reason Matsukawa has barely touched you in the past month or so? You can’t believe it. You refuse to. Matsukawa wouldn’t do that to you. 

His eyes are trained on yours, but there’s no emotion behind them. 

“What ever self destructing thing you’re trying to pull, knock it off.”

“I’m being serious, stop looking for excuses!”

He’s raising his voice now, and you’re practically shaking at this point. 

“I’m not! I know you, and you wouldn’t do that! You’re always looking for ways to put yourself down. You need to stop trying to destroy everything good for yourself because you don’t think you deserve it!”

You wish you could’ve told him calmly, gently, like he deserved, but you’re so infuriated and confused you can’t control the way the words spill out in anger. 

He clicks his tongue, averting his dark eyes from your heavy stare. 

“It doesn’t matter if you don’t believe it. Maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought, I fucked up, it happened.”

“But why?”

You can’t believe you’re even entertaining the blatant lie, but the more he affirms it the more you feel your confidence slipping away. 

“Because I don’t love you anymore!”

His own words rattle in his brain, stinging and heavy in his chest. He knows he doesn’t deserve to feel that pain when he’s the one intentionally hurting you. 

‘I lied, I’m sorry, I love you’

He wants to take it back immediately, but he forces down the words, keeps his face stern. Why is he doing this?

Your eyes well up with more tears, and his hands ache and itch to reach up and brush them away, tell you that you were right. Caress your face and kiss you softly. That he’s just fucked up, that he just wants the best for you. 

You deserved better than him, and this was the only way he knew how to make you leave him. 

The tears spill down your cheeks, dripping from your chin and onto your knees. You tell him to quit the act already, and he presses his forehead against yours and screws his eyes shut. It takes everything he has to maintain it. 

“I’m sorry.”

He stands, and his heart aches more when you try to pull him back in. 

“Issei...”

Your voice is rough, almost a whisper and he clenches his jaw and forces himself to look away. 

“I’m gonna crash at Hanamaki’s. I’ll get my things in the morning.”

Before you can say anything else, he’s closing the bedroom door and grabbing his keys. 

He quickly toes on a pair of slides and shuffles out the door, but not before he hears the broken sobs coming from the bedroom you shared. 

He grits his teeth, biting back the tears. 

He almost expected you to chase him out and grab him by the hand, hug his back, anything, something. 

But why would you? He’s such a piece of shit for even thinking that, not after how he lied, the hurtful things he said. 

For Matsukawa, this only proves he was right to think he wasn’t good for you. 

He waits til he’s in his car to lean his head back, willing the tears away. He doesn’t deserve to cry, he repeats to himself, but they’re falling regardless. 

“So are you gonna tell me why you came to my door step looking like shit, or am I gonna have to keep sitting here awkwardly pitying you?”

Hanamaki cuts straight to the bullshit, but to his credit he lasted a solid five minutes without saying anything. 

Hanamaki lets out a long sigh at the continued silence,

“Fine. You can crash here as long as you need to, but at least tell me if you need anything.”

Matsukawa nods his thanks to him, as Hanamaki shuffles the room. Laying back on the couch, he rests his arms across his eyes and attempts to sleep, but it’s all in vain. 

When he went back to your apartment, you hadn’t been around. Simultaneously to his relief and disappointment. As much as he wanted to see your face, it was for the best. 

For longer than he’d intended, he found himself laying back in the bed you shared. Your scent fills his nose, and the familiar sheets give more comfort than the couch he’d been crashing on before. The comfort doesn’t last long, considering you’re not laying beside him like he’d gotten so used to. 

He can almost hear the words of affirmation in your soft voice, affectionately whispered against the shell of his ear. The light kisses pressed to his lips, his cheeks, nose, brows, eyes as you both laugh in each other’s arms. 

He desperately wants to call you, or for you to come back home so he can tell you to forget what he said. 

He forces himself out of bed with a sigh, slinging the bag he packed over his shoulder. 

The crisp air outside fills his nose, and the warm sun beats against his skin, but the pleasant weather only serves to make him miss your scent and warmth instead. 

Hanamaki’s ‘As long as you need to’ turned out to be a week so far.

Work had been hell for him. His father scolded him for acting more depressed than the guests coming in, and the comment alone made him feel like shit for treating his breakup like a loss of life. 

Matsukawa finds his feet carrying him to the cafe the two of you frequented. A part of him desperately craving the coffee, but most of him wondered if he’d run into you. 

A stupid wish really, what could he possibly even say to you? Why would you want to see him?

“Coffee, black please.”

The barista gives him a expression that reads faux apology,

“Sorry, we didn’t get any in today unfortunately. Can we offer you something else?”

He settles for tea instead. He’d normally feel disappointed and whine about it you, the coffee here is his favorite after all. He can’t feel bothered to at the moment. 

A notification sounds from his phone, and he checks without thinking. 

‘I miss you’

His grip around his tea tightens, it’s from you. 

He locks his phone and pockets it before he can do something dumb like respond with an ‘I miss you too’.

Pitching his nearly full tea, he strides out of the cafe. He heads back to Hanamaki’s apartment, knowing full well he’ll be around since he’s not at the restaurant anymore. 

For the most part, Matsukawa tried to stay out of his hair, staying longer hours at the funeral home or eating out. Sometimes just walking or driving around to stay out, feeling sorry for himself. He’s grateful for Hanamaki’s kindness, and didn’t want to burden him anymore than he had been. 

But right now he really wanted to see his best friend. 

“We broke up.”

Matsukawa finally decides to enlighten him, and Hanamaki doesn’t even try to hide the disbelief from his features. 

“Ahh. She wouldn’t talk to me much when I messaged her. I thought you might have had a big fight or something, but breaking up?”

He gives Matsukawa an apologetic look, but he can tell that he’s still skeptical. 

Is it really so hard to believe that you could have better than him?

“I told her I cheated on her.”

At that, Hanamaki is quick to switch gears. He grabs Matsukawa by the shirt, nails scratching through the fabric into his chest, but he can’t feel bothered to care about the sting. 

He returns his best friend’s manic glare with an indifferent stare. 

“You what?! Matsukawa, are you fucking kidding me, how could you do that to her? Are you that much of a piece of shit you’d throw away the best thing that ever happened to you?”

The words hit home, and Matsukawa averts his gaze, not sure he can handle the anger bleeding out of his friend. 

He berates himself for his cowardice, for not being able to withstand it when he deserved the harsh words that Hanamaki’s right to dole out. 

He’s right, you were the best thing that ever happened to him. But how could he be the best thing that ever happened to you? He’s pathetic, he’s depressing to be around, he’s got an intimidating face, he quit school to work at a funeral home for god’s sake. 

“I didn’t, I lied.”

Hanamaki’s sour expression contorts to a baffled one, 

“Huh?”

“It was the only way she would leave me.”

Hanamaki’s grip loosens from his tee, and Matsukawa presses his hands to his face. 

“Why would you do that?”

Matsukawa doesn’t respond, rubbing his palms against his already red rimmed eyes. 

“Matsukawa... talk to me, man.”

His hands drop between his knees and he glances back up to catch Hanamaki’s worried expression. 

“What if I’m someone I don’t want around?”

Matsukawa voices the thoughts that have been plaguing his mind for months, the words sounding so familiar to his ears despite never having said them out loud. 

Hanamaki’s lips draw into a thin line, unsure what to say to his friend. 

“If I can’t even stand myself, how could she be around me?”

“Matsu—“

He cuts off Hanamaki, ignoring his terse tone and stern expression, 

“What if I’m someone she won’t talk about?”

His breathing starts to become more labored, and it feels like the walls are closing in on him, he can’t meet Hanamaki in the eye. His chest tightens even more, and he didn’t think that were possible. 

“It’s what I wanted, I know that, I was a selfish asshole for keeping her stuck with me. I pushed her away because of it, and I get the feeling that she’ll never need me again,”

He’s almost in a full blown panic attack, his palms are shaking and Hanamaki tries to reach out to him, but he flinches away. Hanamaki is at a loss for words and what to do, he’s never seen his friend like this before. He’s been always cool and composed, never one to wear his heart on his sleeve. 

“And I don’t know what I’ll do after that. I miss her too—”

“You idiot!”

Hanamaki sighs, flopping onto the couch beside him. 

Matsukawa quiets after Hanamaki’s outburst, lightly panting after his rambling, not used to talking so fast and much in a short span of time.

“Just be honest, tell her how you feel.”

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t hate me for that guys! Look forward to the next part, I promise I’ll make it better 😭
> 
> Leave a kudos and your thoughts, I’d love to hear them ¯\\_(ツ)


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